And your lungs are now filled with the scent of my love
by maylandie
Summary: [Modern AU] Courfeyrac wants to get Jehan's poems tattooed on his body. He also wants his lover to do it himself, but Jehan is not sure his poetry is good enough to be tattooed on his boyfriend's body.


"You sure about this ?" Jehan asked, looking up at Courfeyrac.

The other man nodded with a smile. For a moment, he couldn't take his eyes off Jehan's. He smiled again to reassure him. Jehan took a cloth and cleaned the skin of Courfeyrac's collarbone, of his shoulder, and of his back. The touch of his fingers on Courfeyrac's soft skin made the man shiver. Jehan pressed a kiss on the back of his neck and put the cloth aside.

"Which one do you want ?" he asked, the hand pointed to his poetry book. Courfeyrac had spent the last hour reading everything (poems that Jehan loved, and others that he had written himself).

"All of them" Courfeyrac whispered softly. Jehan looked surprised. He bit his lip and looked at Courfeyrac, thinking he was joking or something.

"You're kidding me, right ? My poetry is not _that_ good..." he said. Not good enough to be painted permanently on Courfeyrac's body, his beautiful body. The brown-haired man kissed Jehan's lips and answered : "Of course it is. I want your words all over me." Jehan smiled.

"I'm not sure I can do that" He didn't know exactly what he was talking about. He didn't think his poetry was worth being on his lover's body, he didn't think he was able to touch his skins, to change it. It was perfect the way it was.

"I really want you to do it, Jehan. I want those words on my skin, and I won't let anyone other than you do it. I want it to be you." Jehan kissed him and nodded.

"Okay.. Okay... I'll do the Poe ones, but I don't think you should get my poems tattooed on your back" Jehan said, preparing the gun and everything he needed.

"Forget about the Poe ones. I just want yours."

"What ? No. No, I just said-" Courfeyrac's lips were on his before he could end his sentence. Courfeyrac took a breath and asked : "Please ?"

Jehan couldn't say no, he couldn't resist his beautiful eyes and the way he looked at him. So he simply nodded and decided to do it, because apparently it was important for Courfeyrac.

The dark-haired man stopped him before he could write the words on the paper, which was supposed to draw the letters on his skin. "You don't need to do that, I trust you, just take the gun and write."

"Courf, I really don't think it's a good idea..." he hesitated.

"Stop it, I love you okay ? You don't need to worry about this, it's going to be perfect" he tried to reassure him.

"What if I mess it up ?"

Courfeyrac was stroking his cheek, his neck, and his hand went down to his chest. And then again, it was on the side of his face.

"You won't. And even if you do, I don't care. I want your words in my skin. It's like having a part of you with me all the time, it's what I want. Please... ?"

Jehan understood. He smiled and kissed the soft lips of his lover.

Moments later, the gun was in his hand, and the needle made his way through Courfeyrac's skin. He didn't feel anything the first time, but then, he winced. He suddenly felt the pain. He only had to get used to it. Jehan felt his body tense and, with his left hand, he began to play with Courfeyrac's hair in an attempt to comfort him. He had to let go because he needed his hand, but when he held the skin of his lover's shoulder, he did it in the sweetest way he could. His left hand was there to make him feel good, while his right hand was hurting him.

"Don't worry I'm okay" Courfeyrac said, as if he could read Jehan's mind. His noticed his own hand holding the chair with all the strengh of his arm, and he let go of it.

"I'm sorry for hurting you" Jehan whispered, feeling awfully guilty. He wiped off the blood and the black ink. And the needle was back in Courfeyrac's skin. He winced and his fngers were wrapping around the chair again.

"God I'm so sorry..."

"Don't worry I'm fine Jehan" he said smiling. "I've been through worse" he tried with a small laugh. Jehan smiled. He was too focused to laugh.

"Do you want a flower next to it ?" the blond man asked with a shy look.

"Yeah, go ahead"

"I'm almost done" Jehan said, biting his lip. He kissed Courfeyrac's skin, his neck, his collarbone, just next to the still red tattoos. "_And your lungs are now filled with the scent of my love..._" he read the last words of the poem as he finished the work.

"Did you sign it ?" Jehan shook his head. Courfeyrac was looking at him expectantly. Jehan took the tattoo gun, and once again, black ink was taking life under Courfeyrac's skin. He did his best to write his name in the best way he could. Each letter had to be perfect. The needle was out of the skin and Courfeyrac let out a small breath. He dropped a kiss on Jehan's left hand. Jehan took care of the blood and left kisses all over the raw skin. Courfeyrac closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on Jehan's soft and warm lips, his lips only. His lips which were now brushing the base of his neck, the sensitive skin under his chin, then his jaw. And the lips captured his own, the tongue found a way between his teeth. Jehan's hand rested on his waist, the other one held his neck. Courfeyrac's hand made its way to the back of Jehan's head and he felt the blond hair under his fingers.

The kiss lasted for decades. When they stopped to breathe again, Courfeyrac whispered next to Jehan's ear. "Thank you" Jehan felt the hot breath of his lover and kissed him again, incapable of staying away from him.


End file.
